Trapped
by TheSeventhCastaway
Summary: Leo, Hazel, Percy, Frank, Piper, Annabeth, and Jason are trapped in different boxes in different places, not knowing how they got there. And worst of all, the boxes seem to have their deepest fears in them...and for once, the demigods have no idea what to do.
1. Leo

**HEY GUYS! So here's what I wrote for creative writing class in camp. The thing is, your favorite character (mine was Leo, so yeah) is in a box. He/she doesn't know how he/she got there, and why. Take it on from then. **

**So our counselor (for the class, she's a high-school student,) was giving people individual advice on their story. She crouched down beside me and said "I have an idea. How about you make all the seven characters (the major seven, you know, of the prophecy,) and put them all in a box with their fear. For example, Percy with the sky (but I didn't do that), or Annabeth with the spiders."**

**And I was like: "Okay, pretty cool, pretty cool." (well not really but the idea was)**

**So yeah. this is it.**

**It's pretty long though and I'm not yet done with Frank, Annabeth, Jason, and Piper.**

**So I'll do it by chapter.**

* * *

Leo smelled like fish.

That was the first thing that struck him when he woke up. The smell. His skin and damp clothes reeked of sushi gone bad. He wrinkled his nose involuntarily. He rubbed at his eyes and squinted. It was dark, aside from a few tiny patches of light leaking through little holes.

He felt around his surroundings, his hands flat on the walls. It was small, a shape of a square. It gave him just enough space to hunch over a bit. His curls brushed the ceiling. The walls underneath his calloused fingers were grainy. A wooden crate. He had to be careful with his fire.

He reached for his tool belt for a tic-tac. If not his skin, at least his breath would smell good.

When he found that his belt was gone, he panicked. He glanced around quickly, just to make sure that he hadn't left it around somewhere. "Okay," he murmured to himself. "Focus,"

His head throbbed. He lightly touched it and a jolt of pain shot through his forehead. The last thing he remembered was Percy yelling at him, holding his sword and eyes wide. Percy's lips had formed a word, but he did not hear the shout. _"Move," _Percy was telling him, but he didn't do what he said. Annabeth had pushed her boyfriend aside to dodge something. A large _boom _echoed through the Argo II. Everything went dark after that.

Leo groaned. Not only his head hurt, but his whole body, too. His limbs ached and his throat felt like it was rubbed with sandpaper. He was tired, yes, but he had to do something. The others might be in trouble. He examined the box again. Desperately, he summoned fire. It danced on his finger, about the size of a dime.

It licked his flesh, but it didn't affect Leo. If anything, it tickled him.

With a defeated sigh, he bent down and peered through one of the holes. He cautiously kept his finger up.

He blinked, confused. What he saw was painfully familiar.

Leo was inside a cramped house. The windows were smoggy and stained a dark green color. Rays of sunlight squeezed through some clear spots on the glass. The wooden walls were dusty and unkept, worn by age. Tables lined up across the room, tinged with speckles of machine grease. There were tools and crumpled blueprints scattered messily on them and on the floor. On one window sill, there was a small rag hanging out. It had splatters of oil on it.

And on one desk, there was a crude drawing of a ship lit with flames.

Leo was in a tool shed. His mother's.

His hands shook. He clasped them together to stop them from doing so. It's just one of Gaea's many tricks again. He had to concentrate. He had to figure out a way to get out of here.

He let out a shaky wheeze, knowing what he must do. Relive the past.

The memory appeared on his mind as clear as ever. It was imprinted on his brain. Flames in front of him and he was screaming. His mother was still in there.

He shook his head. Fire appeared on his palm, bright and dangerous. He could not think of his evil babysitter right now. Slowly, he let his hand touch the box tentatively, waiting for it to ignite.

When it didn't happen, his eyebrows knitted together. This kind of problem never occurred before. He pushed his hand forward again and again.

"Uh, '_flame on'_?" he muttered frantically. He tried it again. Nope. He was trapped.

He let his hands skim all over the box. He examined every inch of it, lighting up the darkness with a small flame.

Something pointy pricked his thumb. He inhaled sharply and sucked on the wound. The taste of blood made him wince. It was bitter and coppery.

He looked up to see a screw in the corner. It was what had caused the scratch on his skin. Leo's fingers circled it. Hazel was the expert on metals, but he was pretty sure that this was silver, not iron like regular screws.

Leo frowned. Maybe…but Gaea wasn't that stupid.

But most of her followers were.

He held the fire underneath the screw. He willed it to be hotter. To his triumph, the metal seemed to soften.

He glanced at the other corners at the box. Just like he expected, three other screws were winded tightly in the wood. He smiled mischievously. He didn't notice the bulge in his pocket.

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**Yep. Next is Hazel.**

**GUYS CAN YOU PLEASE**

**PLEASE**

**PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE**

**GIVE ME FEARS OF FRANK, PIPER, AND JASON?**

**NOTHING WEIRD OR STUPID**

**JUST PLEASE I NEED THEM**

**Because I still need to submit this to my counselor!**

**Thanks!**

**~Sandie**


	2. Hazel

**Hey guys! Please check out this author: Draco lover 91 ! I promised a shoutout and she/he got it c: She has Harry Potter stories. Also check out my other stories? Please? Hehehe. **

**Some are Harry Potter, though, and all except one are romance. The odd one out is humor.**

**Ahem. So, anyway, here's Hazel!**

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Hazel couldn't be any more terrified.

She was in a cardboard box. It reminded her of the old boxes that she and her mother used to store extra jewels in. Just like her, it was soggy and wet. She smelled like salt. And not the way Percy smells like, either, not in that clean way. It was like Hazel had bathed in mucky seawater and dried herself off with seaweed and dead fish.

She could feel swaying. She pushed the cardboard flaps of the box up and nearly choked.

She was on a ship. It was a very tall and large one. It towered over rocky and dirty seawater. The stink surrounding her was far more pleasant than the one around the ship. There were heaps of fish behind her, some flopping around uselessly and most surrounded by flies. Dozens of nets hung from poles, lowered into the water. They were brought back up with what seemed like hundreds of fish trapped in them. No one was controlling them.

She climbed out of the box and immediately regretted it. Her legs gave out and she fell on the untidy floor with a dull _thump. _Her face had landed squarely on a yellow, runny liquid. She was sure that she didn't want to know what it was.

Disgusted, she pulled herself up to her knees and wiped the liquid off with her equally grimy sleeve. She felt sick and nauseous. The boat swayed some more and she threw up over the railing of the ship. All that came out was watery and tinged green. There was nothing left in her stomach.

Hazel moaned. What in the name of Olympus was she doing here? Her _spatha _was not hooked to her belt, nor was her sword scabbard. They were both nowhere to be seen. And she couldn't summon any jewels here-it was a ship. And she couldn't sense any precious metals on board.

She scarcely remembered anything except for a loud crash. Her ears still rang with it.

Her face contorted into a look of pain. She held on to the railing and forced herself up. Her knees wobbled and nearly buckled, but she willed them to move. She took a step forward, still clutching the railing, and kept walking. There seemed to be no one here besides her. "Hello?" she called weakly. There was no response.

She reached the other end of the ship. A helm was twisting slowly and lazily. Hazel shivered. It was like there were eidolons on board. But there was no cold feeling or whatever, like Leo had described before. So what was this place?

She turned the helm tentatively. There was only one handle, so she gripped that. When nothing happened, she snorted and started to walk away. But before she could, the wooden board in front of her opened. She jumped back with a surprised yelp. Hazel smashed into the helm and a piece of wood came off from it. It was one of the handles.

The board revealed a creaky staircase. It seemed old and worn. You couldn't see the bottom. She took the handle that broke off and stuffed it in her pocket. It might be useful later on. Maybe.

Wait-something was wrong. The handle was supposed to hit something. She was missing something very important. It was more than important-crucial. She checked her pocket, beads of sweat appearing on her head. Frank's piece of wood.

It was gone.

As much as Hazel wanted to curl up and cry, she knew that she had to keep moving. She could save him and their other friends. Frank probably asked for it or something before she got knocked out. No need to worry. But she still had to find it. If it were in the wrong hands…Hazel shuddered.

She looked down at the steep staircase. There was a wall on either side of the staircase with bugs crawling around them. At most, her ankle was sprained. She could limp down while constantly leaning on one of the walls. She took a hesitant step forward. The damp stair groaned under her weight.

She hopped forward, careful where she placed her hand. Luckily, she didn't feel or hear any sickening _crunch _underneath her palm, so that was a good sign.

Hazel stumbled forward. Her ankle screamed in protest, but she had to continue if she ever wanted to get out of here. She steadied herself on the wall, her shoulder pressed against it. It was so dark here, you could barely see anything. Red and purple spots danced in front of her eyes. Her eyelids were slowly drooping, and she fell forward. She stopped herself by placing both hands on the walls beside her. She felt something crawling on her arm. She didn't have any idea what it was, but she swatted it away.

Her vision was darkening. She didn't know what had happened before she woke up, but she must've hit her head pretty bad. She touched it. It felt swollen and too big. She needed to find some ambriosa or nectar, fast.

She walked forward as quickly as she could. She couldn't see anything now, except for a dull silver circle approaching her. She let her hands feel in front of her, hoping to touch it and find out what it was.

Her hands met something cool and hard. She rapped her knuckles against it gently. It ached. It was a marble wall, blocking her path. The silver circle was at the very top of it, so she couldn't reach it even if she jumped.

Hazel didn't know what to do. Her forehead leaned on it, and her fingers curled into fists. She was slowly slipping into unconsciousness. Or maybe a blackout. But she hadn't had one of those since she had shown Leo about Sammy.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out the helm handle. She studied it lazily. It had a carving of a skull on top and it seemed to be smiling at her. Its empty eyes looked like they were shining. Like diamonds.

Her eyes widened. Why was there only one handle in the helm? Where were the other seven?

They were most probably with the others, wherever they are. But what did the handles do?

She felt around for a hole. Just as she had expected, there was one. She shoved in the handle, skull inside. Glittering web-like lines poured out of the silver circle and expanded across the marble. The wall slid back smoothly.

A figure stood in front of her. It was glowing faintly, in a shape of a girl. She narrowed her eyes at it. It looked exactly like someone familiar. The figure's eyes opened, staring straight back at her. It reached out to her. She couldn't have been any more than a few years older than her.

With a jolt, Hazel realized who that girl was.

"Hello, Hazel Levesque." the silhouette said. "My name is Bianca di Angelo."

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**Does it look weird if I indent? I think it looks weird when I indent.**

**I copy paste this from a word doc, eh, so. Yep.**

**Anyway, if you like this story, review please!**

**~Sandie REALLY NEEDS YOU TO CHECK OUT DRACO LOVER 91! Do it for the love of Leo! (who's mine)**


	3. Percy

**Sup? Guys, if you are interested in really good Scorpius-Rose fanfictions (Harry Potter,) visit this author: DrieSummersDaughterOfApollo. The title of the story is: The real you. If you want, check out her other fics. ;)**

**Thank you guys for reviewing! -mwah- hehe.**

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Percy felt like he had never held his breath this long before.

He was floating and trying to fight the urge to inhale. He knew it was silly. He couldn't be drowning. It was most probably a dream. After all, he had had dreams like this before. As far as he could tell, he was not mud-or muskeg, as Hazel called it. The thickness of the liquid he was in was different from the slow texture of the mud. But he still might not be in water. The idea made him sick to his stomach.

It was really too dark to tell. He couldn't see his hand in front of him. A strip of light, although a small one, slightly lit up the…whatever he was in. He did not feel powerful and energized like he usually did in water. _That_ was a bad sign.

His lungs still felt like bursting. He could hold on for a little while, but not long enough. His powers were gone. He didn't know where he was, and where to go. He needed to find Annabeth and the others. But to get out of here, for the moment, was his top priority.

He thrust his hands up as far as he could go. The ceiling was low, but he could stand up. The top was smooth and cold. In fact, it was freezing here. He felt like he was going to become a Percy-pop. A little treat for Gaea to enjoy, no doubt. She was obviously behind this. He headed toward the thin ray of light and peered through where it was coming from.

When he touched a short pole in front of him, he realized that it was a small, barred window. He pushed against it forcefully. He wasn't strong enough. Impulsively, he reached for his sword, Riptide. He grabbed air instead. It wasn't there. What was he going to fight with?

He tried to concentrate. The water (maybe) was going to enter his mouth soon and there was nothing going to stop it. He willed the liquid to press against the walls. _Please be water, please be water…_

Percy couldn't help it. He gasped, and all the fluid rushed in. He was choking and coughing. All he wanted was some fresh air.

With desperation, he rammed his back against the wall and with his feet against the window, shoved as hard as he could. As if some miracle had happened, he heard a _crack_ over the roaring in his ears. The bars broke! He wriggled out of the hole, grateful that he was still sort of scrawny, and swam upwards.

His lungs ached. They were already filled with fluid, and he felt kind of sleepy. His vision was growing darker and darker.

Suddenly, his head reached the surface. He hacked and tried to bring the fluid back up. When he had spit out the last of it, he still felt queasy. His hands reached up and he rubbed his eyes. They hurt.

He could see that he was drifting in seawater. But…that's not possible. Why wouldn't his powers work here if he was in saltwater?

He narrowed his eyes. A strip of white was in front of him-sand. And a small box to the far left. He could remember something. It was on the tip of his tongue. Three things popped up in his head: hurricane, blue corn chips, and a story that was always heard. Montauk. Percy was in Montauk.

He waded forward, thinking maybe he'd find his friends there. He was secretly hoping that maybe his dad or mom was inside the little shack half buried in the sand.

He bumped something as he swam. He frowned at it. It was a small, wooden figure of a horse with a trident in its mouth. It had a smooth bottom. Maybe it was a game piece or something?

He didn't know why, but he pocketed it.

* * *

**This is pretty short compared to the others, don't you think? I'm not sure I like it.**

**So, guys, I won't be updating in a while. I haven't written Frank's part yet (sorry, I'm such a procrastinator and it doesn't help that I don't like Frank -no offense to you peeps- and I have a lot to do. Such as entries (5 more) for camp. Yay. And one more month until deadline...I'm screwed.)**

**:c Please have these virtual cookies while waiting. (::) (::) hope they make it up to you. (::) (::)**

**I feel all guilty now huhu**

**On a brighter note, my sister baked muffins -rejoice-**

**~Sandie who is REALLY SORRY!**


	4. Frank

**Hey, guys! Sorry for being really late...but you guys are sooo cool! Thanks for all the reviews, especially Some-Awesome-Person. I just want to give you guys cookies ^_^**

**Anyway, here it is! Frank c:**

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Frank dreamt of his mother.

In his dream, his mom was laughing and reaching out to him. "Frank," she beamed. "I've been gone for too long." He smiled. His mom wrapped her arms around his big, burly frame and he returned the hug quickly. He had missed her so much.

His mother was covered in dirt and a few red spots here and there, but Frank never saw her so radiant. Even the place was beautiful. They were in an unspoiled field. Everything seemed perfect. He was reunited with her.

But then they both heard a bomb.

"Come," his mom told him. Panic laced her usually steady voice. She grabbed his big hand and ran urgently. Frank stumbled after her. The field wasn't green or beautiful anymore, it was black and the ground was full of ashes. He caught a glimpse of someone screaming. The enemy pressed the gun barrel to the man's head.

Another shot. "Hurry!" his mom ordered. He tried to be faster, but he didn't know what was weighing him down. It was like he was clumsier than usual. His feet dragged behind him like cinder blocks.

Suddenly, she stopped. Frank nearly bumped into her, but he regained his balance. She grinned, relieved. "I think that it's okay now." her fingers wrapped around his shaking hand. Her hand was warm and her face glowed.

Frank opened his mouth to respond when she shrieked. "Frank!"

She pushed him down roughly, his face pressed against the ashes and he heard a bullet whizzing near him. His mother slumped behind him.

Frank cautiously looked up. It was a green, beautiful field again. There were no Afghanistan enemies to be seen anywhere. Then he saw his mom.

Blood pooled from her head. Her dark eyes were still open, blank and dull. Her arm was thrown carelessly over her stomach, and her mouth was wide with a shout. He felt sick.

He didn't want to see her like this. He remembered a soldier knocking on his grandmother's door. "Your mother is a hero," he said without greeting them. "Captain Emily Zhang died trying to save her comrades."

The bright, sunny sky seemed to mock his mother's death, even in a dream. The sun beat down on his skin. He felt like he was roasting, hot tears rolling down his cheeks. The heat got more intense. He felt like he was trapped in an oven.

Frank's eyes flew open, and he sat up with a jolt. As soon as he did, he almost wished he hadn't woken up. It was burning, and the smell of smoke didn't blend well with the stench on his clothes. Salt, gasoline, and smoke mixed, making it hard to breathe. Frank took shallow breaths. Man, he stunk.

He was in a wooden box. He pulled himself up. He could stand, but he felt like he was going to hurl. The box was only big enough and tall enough for him to fit in it, so it was pretty snug. He couldn't move his arms without them scraping the splintery wood.

A hole was directly in front of his eyes. _Whoa. _He thought. _That's weird._ He peeped out of it, his left eye squeezed shut. A huge tower of flames nearly singed his eyelashes off.

At first he thought it was Leo. He had never been so relieved to see him all his life. "Hey! Valdez!" Frank shouted. "Can you lend me a hand?"

The smog stung his eyes and almost blinded him. It didn't help that Leo's fire was too bright, either. "Hey! Did you hear me? Leo! Can you get me out of here?"

That's when he realized that it wasn't the son of Hephaestus. "Oh my gods," Frank backed up but couldn't get any farther than a few inches away from the hole.

It wasn't Leo. It was fire, pure fire. A huge pile of dry wood was perched beside it. A gallon of gasoline leaned on one piece of wood. Slowly, the fire snaked up the stack, leaving black ash in its wake. Frank didn't want to stick around long enough to see what would happen when it reached the gasoline.

He had to get out, fast. There was nothing in his reach that could help him. But maybe he could turn into a small fly or something to pass through the hole. He closed his eyes and concentrated. He imagined a pair of tiny, hairy antennae sprouting out from his hair and his body shrinking, turning black. Then four more legs should be suddenly appearing out from his waist and hips.

He frowned he peeked from his eyelids, confused. Why wasn't he small yet? Maybe he didn't know enough about the animal to become it. But, he mostly did. I mean, what more was there to know besides that it was an insect that had six legs, red, creepy eyes, and it liked to contaminate his food?

His powers weren't working. He tried again, but he just wasted another two minutes of his time. The flames were nearing the small barrel of gasoline.

He dug in his pockets for anything useful, like maybe a paper clip from his dad that could turn into a knife.

His hands met something cold. He shivered and pulled out half a stick of gum and a piece of wood that looked eerily familiar. His stick was barely long as his hand, but it held his life in it.

Okay, he panicked. Here he was, trapped in a box in a room with almost no memory of what happened, with his flammable lifeline, and a gallon of gasoline only seconds away from flames. Great. Well, at least this couldn't get any-

_ Boom._

Gasoline and fire showered over the box, enveloping it in flames. Frank shoved his chunk of wood and the gum in his jacket, bunched in between his shirt and blue hoodie. He covered his head with his arms to shield anything from hitting him and knocking him out. The fire licked the box and it fell apart quickly. Miraculously, it didn't touch him. The fire soon died down, not even leaving scorch marks. The last scrap of wood fell at his feet. He stared at it in awe.

It was about five inches long. Etched on the top of it was a circle with a thin arrow coming out of the side of it. He picked it up. The arrow looked so brittle and the wood so old that Frank was scared that it would crumble in his big, clumsy hands. He wiggled the stick of the arrow cautiously. It didn't even move a bit. Despite its appearance, it was strong and solid.

"_I'm not done with you yet, Son of Mars. You are by far the most delicate of the seven. So many fears…I think I'll have some fun with you first." _Frank heard. That voice made him shiver. Gaea was behind this. Of course she was.

He racked his brain for his major fears, raising a finger whenever he found one exceptionally terrifying. He had three so far. One was seeing his mom suffer again. That was done. He forced himself to get the thought out of his mind.

Next was his wood burning and him dying. That didn't happen yet, but it nearly did, so scratch that. The next was losing Hazel.

He bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood. Losing Hazel…that would drive him crazy. He had been so scared for weeks that she'd pick Leo over him and it pestered him every day. As if it could get any worse, he always felt that he wasn't good for anyone as sweet and cool as Hazel. He was too protective of her, he guessed, He couldn't let go of the feeling that Leo had ran through Hazel's mind once in a while, too.

Gaea wouldn't do that, would she?

Well, if you had to go in a war against some Dirt Woman who is extremely powerful and can destroy the gods once her eyes snap open, his best bet was yes, she would.

As he pushed the door open, it creaked. Bright white shone through the doorway and he just hoped that Hazel was okay.

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**I ACTUALLY TRIED WITH THAT FRAZEL BIT YAY! **

**Hope it didn't sound totally weird.**

**-gives you cookies- here you go!**

**Please review c:**

**~Sandie**


	5. Piper

**I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING! I feel so horrible! I've been putting it off for days because I got addicted to tumblr and Sherlock. I am really really so sorry. I've been so out of it. Please tell me if this sounds a little off. Sorry again :c**

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Piper has always hated attention.

Being the daughter of Aphrodite, it was quite unusual. For some reason, Piper just didn't like it. One part of her knew that she should be the one to show off, paint her nails, and apply lipstick every five minutes, and the other part absolutely abhorred it. The only attention she ever wanted was her dad's, and maybe Jason's. She was aware that she could pull off any look-not that it made her happy- but she didn't even bother to try. She avoided wearing make up to make sure she didn't stand out and wore ugly, faded jeans with holes so that she wouldn't be deemed beautiful. She wasn't even sure why. Being beautiful was a good thing, right?

Jason has told her countless times that she was pretty despite the lack of designer clothes and accessories.

Well, he didn't seem to think that now.

Piper pressed her hands to a cool surface in front of her. Everything she saw were just a bunch of blurry blobs. She could hear laughter, cold and harsh. She blinked a few times before figures started materializing in front of her.

She was inside a clear, glass case. Outside of it, giggling and gawking, were almost everyone she ever knew. Piper had been to a lot of schools each year, so this was definitely a big thing for her. She yelped and ran backwards, her back against the wall. She scanned the crowd with fog-edged eyes. Her dad was missing.

"Hey," her cheeks burned as she knocked on the glass. "Why am I here? What are you laughing at?"

She saw one girl point and laugh harder. Denise Wright, a bully from a stupid boarding school she was forced to go to for about three days before she ran away. Piper remembered the tired look in her dad's eyes when he found out. She sneered at them. Her closest friends, Leo, Jason, and Annabeth just grinned and whispered to each other. They broke out in guffaws, shaking their heads. Even the newer ones she met, Percy, and the Romans, Hazel and Frank chuckled. Piper felt like more like a freak then she ever could.

Her skin flushed and she took deep inhales. She noticed the smell. Being trapped in your own stink isn't fun, she thought. She smelled like the old caviar that her dad ordered from a fancy restaurant one day and turned out to be spoiled. A few hours later, she learned that the inside of a toilet isn't a pleasant view.

Chortles cut through her memory. She turned around and pressed her lips together. She shouted as loud as she could, spouting out the foulest words she knew. Some were in Greek. It only made the audience whoop. What were they expecting her to do, back flip?

She instinctively reached for Katoptris. It wasn't in the sheath that she normally kept on her belt. "Darn," she said sarcastically. Her heart was beating too fast to be humanly possible. Too many eyes on her. "Now what will I use as a mirror?"

Leo, the closest to her through the glass, made a clicking noise to Jason. Jason sort of growled back. Strange. So it's the Mist, then, or some kind of monster. It was some kind of trick by Gaea, either way. Piper's patience was definitely wearing thin with the Earth Goddess. She blew away a damp strand of hair and kicked as hard as she could at the glass.

It bounced back at her, to her shock. "Ow, ow, owww," she groaned as she clutched her leg. How thick was the glass, anyway? About seven, eight inches? Maybe it was a kind of Greek glass or something. She bit her lip and tasted salt water. She wondered what happened to the others. What if they were being attacked?

The Stoll Brothers liked the glass, apparently. They poked it and said something that she couldn't understand. She flicked the wall in front of them, making them look up. "Hey, Connor, Travis. Yeah, uh, are you working for Gaea or is this just a stupid trick by Leo?" her voice shook involuntarily.

They fidgeted, their arms and legs twitching and going in different directions. They looked like they were about to blow up. She backed away as far as she could from the two boys. They winced one last time and simultaneously evaporated.

"Huh?" she approached the spot where they disappeared. Two other kids filled in the spot, not noticing that two people just turned into smoke. Sketchy. She retraced her steps. She didn't use any charmspeak or weapon of any sort. She just spoke to them.

"Oh!" she said aloud, causing everyone to giggle again. She crossed her arms to stop them from shaking. Anyway, she figured it out. They weren't going to be here for long.

She pointed a finger to a dark haired boy in the crowd. "Ch-Chris Rodriguez." she stuttered. He, like the brothers, transformed into a cloud of smoke. She was facing her fear, talking in front of dozens of people. Cheesy.

She trained her eyes on a small, blonde haired girl. "Um, how's the weather?" she asked her. The girl simply stared back, a wide smile on her face. Piper had to use names. This was going to take long, she thought. "Daisy O'Niel," she rolled her eyes, and Daisy gasped and was gone in a second. Piper sat down, with her head against the glass, and rang off names. One by one, they were enveloped in smoke. "Carrie Trill, Howard Grey, Clovis Murry," she drawled, her voice catching in her throat, until one person was left. She pulled herself up and stepped forward with some kind of pride and confidence she never had before. The person stopped laughing. "Jason Grace," she said. "Son of Jupiter."

The case trembled and Jason watched with cold, dark eyes, so unlike his blue ones. The glass to Piper's left shattered, then her right, back, and front. The sound pierced her ears, making her press her hands to either side of her head. And before the shards hit the ground, they and Jason dissolved out of sight. A small plink echoed through the room as an object fell to the floor.

Piper trembled as she stepped down from the platform. She frowned and picked up the object. It was a couple inches long and grainy. Its white paint was chipped and powdery. It came off on her thumb. On the top of the stick, a figure of a beautiful dove was carved on it. Its wings were spread and it almost looked alive. It radiated a soft, pink light. She had to tear her eyes away.

A door materialized in front of her. Her hand touched the brass knob. She looked up and wondered, in the vast whiteness of the room, what kind of sick game Gaea was playing.

She stepped through.

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**It's so short! I'm really sorry again. And again. If there are any grammatical errors or anything, please tell me so that I can fix it. Annabeth will be soon, I promise! I hope.**

**ON THE BRIGHT SIDE**

**HoH COVER OMG HOW COOL IS IT, RIGHT?**

**~Sandie**


	6. Annabeth

**Okay, so this is Annabeth! I actually really like this chapter because she has major Arachnophobia. I think that she'd act more scared than the others, as she was born with the fear and spiders hunt her down and stuff.**

**So anyway, thanks for the reviews guys! c:**

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Annabeth was never the girly kind.

She detested dresses, skirts, and heels. She preferred to be seen without make-up, and while sometimes she wished that she looked different, she was perfectly comfortable in her own skin. Sure, maybe she would occasionally have to dress up for something fancy, like that one time Percy brought her to France. But that was totally worth it. Unlike the Aphrodite kids, (well, except for Piper,) she did not run away, screaming, from monsters or because of a bad hair day. She did not find animals gross because of their 'germs' or did not wrinkle her nose at any dead thing. Normally, she'd be the one to put the dead thing there. And she never, ever found any bug disgusting. In fact, they were quite interesting when studied.

But, technically, a spider is not a bug. It is an arachnid. Spiders are the absolutely worst thing imaginable to Annabeth, which she didn't know whether to be ashamed or proud of. Its eight legs and big, hairy body was enough to make her run for her life. She hated them. Period.

Being surrounded by them wasn't too fun.

Her eyes felt like they were sewn shut. She opened them with difficulty and waited until her vision was sharp and focused. Around her were four rickety walls, holes and thin strings all over. The _thing _surrounding her basically looked like pieces of metal glued together. She figured, by the smell on her, that the Argo II crashed into something and she fell into the water. This was a test, a trick. Gaea was behind this. It had to be.

She furrowed her brow and a sharp pain went through her head. She sucked in her breath sharply. She pinched the bridge of her nose and frowned. Her thoughts were cloudy and not clear. She must have hit her head on something. The right side of her body ached, too. Maybe she hit something. Annabeth pulled back her sleeve to see a big, bluish bruise. She winced and avoided looking at it.

She had to approach this calmly. Athena always had a plan. She examined everything around her, her eyes sweeping the small cage. She felt one sheet of metal and pressed it in between her fingers, her thumb outside poking through the hole. It was made out of iron. She stood up, her hair just barely touching the top. She kicked it tentatively and grimaced. The scraps didn't budge at all. It must have used some kind of magic, not just glue or anything. But Circe and Hecate weren't supposed to communicate to anyone, just like the other gods. So what is this?

Annabeth darted her eyes from left to right, up to down. She peeked out of one hole and saw the white strings again. Yellow sunlight poured in between them. She reached out and grabbed some of the string and pulled her hand back in. It was sticky and as thin and fine as hair. She gasped and started hyperventilating, flapping her hand and trying to get the bundle off her hand. It was spider webs. That was what held the stupid box together. There must be tons of the stuff, circling the whole thing. She shivered.

She started pounding on the iron. "Help!" she shouted. "Anybody there? Help! Help!" she kicked and screamed and sweat rolled down the back of her neck. Her eyes were wide. There must be some way to get out of here. Athena always has a plan, she muttered to herself.

That's when she heard it. Little scuttling. It was loud, and Annabeth wasn't sure whether it was the blood roaring in her ears or something else. She stood rigidly, biting the inside of her cheek too hard. Black widows, woodlouse hunters, tarantulas, too many species to name came crawling in through the spaces in the metal scraps.

Annabeth screeched so loud that she felt like she was rubbing her throat with sandpaper. They were coming in near the floor, creeping up the walls and near Annabeth's shins. She grabbed for her knife, but it wasn't on her belt. It wasn't like she could slice hundreds of spiders apart, anyway.

She frantically tried to climb up the box somehow, reaching for some kind of hold. Her hand found a space to hold on to. Her fingers slipped and the metal cut through her skin. She barely noticed the pain as the spiders rose up to her knees, then her waist.

Tears fogged her vision and images raced through her head. When she was seven, and her stepmother scoffed at her stories of spiders coming and leaving webs on her at night. And that mini heart attack she had when Connor put a spider in her bed. That time when she and Percy were twelve and retrieving the shield for Ares. There were little metallic arachnids all around them. That haunting memory when she was surrounded by the beasts in a room, with the Mark of Athena. Those moments were in her dreams at night, except they all got to her.

They were rising up, just beside her waist. Some, maybe ten or twenty, have reached her chest. She felt something crawling on her knee. She looked down and saw a red and black spider, its body shaped like an arrowhead. She resisted the urge to scream, but the muscles in her neck tightened as tears dripped down her cheeks. Normally she'd just be shouting, but these were more spiders than she had ever seen. This was overwhelming, especially because her nightmares have come true. She was going to be wrapped in their webs, suffocating her. Gaea hit her where it hurt the most.

If she moved the slightest bit, then the spider would sink its teeth into her skin. It was like the other spiders were waiting for her move, positioned on the wall, near her skin. They didn't do anything. All of their eyes seemed to be focused on the spider on her knee. But maybe, she hoped, it wasn't poisonous. But she knew that some of the others were. Slowly, barely moving, her hand reached into her pocket.

Her hand wrapped around something hot, almost scalding. Her lips twitched upward. This will work, she thought wistfully. She brought it out.

The coin her mother gave her was like a repellant to the spiders. They scuttled away and the arrowhead spider on her knee jumped off and landed near her foot. It disappeared through a hole with the others as if some miracle had happened. Annabeth heard creaking and the pieces of metal fell around her. She rubbed her slightly bloody hand on her shorts and buried her head in her hands. She felt vulnerable and weak.

She looked up, wiping her tears away, and shoved the coin in her pocket. A small box, wrapped in the webs was at her feet. She took a hesitant step backwards. If she opened it and it was another trap, she might not make it out. If she didn't open it, she'll always be wondering what it is, day and night. She paused before bending down. It probably wasn't wise, but she ripped the box open and disgustedly waved her hand until the web fell from it. Inside, on a pillow of silk, was a stick.

Well, not necessarily a stick. She picked it up and held it, studying every inch of it. The wood was worn and peeled off at some places, but it looked freshly polished. It looked like a handle of some sort. The head of the handle was shaped like an owl with a snake wrapped around it, its eyes big and curious. Her eyebrows rose. The owl and the snake were a symbol of Athena. She stuffed it in her pocket, too, and felt it bump against the coin. A door that wasn't there a few minutes ago was just to her left.

She cautiously pulled it open and peeked through. There was no light and it had a musty stench. She squinted, trying to make out any figures.

Then Annabeth was pulled into the darkness.

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**Ooh suspense.**

**Please review! c:**

**By the way, have any of you watched Sherlock? IT'S SOOO AWESOME.**

**Ehehe sorry**

**~Sandie**


	7. Jason

**Guys please please please read the note at the bottom, it's very important.**

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Jason always looked out for his friends.

He didn't know whether he should count Percy, Frank, and Annabeth as friends yet, as he had not known him as long as the others, but he normally had an impulse to protect people he cared about. Leo, Piper, and Hazel were closest to him among the seven. Sometimes he had to restrain himself from telling them to stay on the ship while he would go out and fight. He knew that they were strong and could defend themselves, but he couldn't bear the thought of them being harmed.

He feared letting them down. He knew that, besides Percy, he was the most powerful demigod on the Argo II. It was a lot of weight on his shoulders. He was okay with being the leader, being used to the Praetor position and all, yet it was pressuring. What if he messed up and they got hurt, or worse?

Thoughts like that pestered him ever since they sailed toward the Roman camp. He shrugged it off, passing it off as nervousness. The heavy feeling in his gut still didn't go away after weeks. Sometimes, while fighting, he'd glance around just to check that everyone was okay.

And if they weren't, he'd try not to drop his sword and dash toward them.

Jason saw this as both an advantage and a disadvantage. The good thing was that it might keep them safe. The bad thing was that it might cost him his life. If anyone asked him if he'd choose himself over his friends, he would be sure of his answer. Without Piper, Leo, or Hazel, or anyone on Argo II (maybe even Coach,) he'd be distraught. Nothing would make him the same.

Maybe it was finding out he had a sister that triggered this trait. He didn't want to lose anyone else. It struck him hard that someday they'll all be gone. During the quest or after it, they would all die. It didn't matter whether it was monsters, some illness, or old age. He didn't want them to go. Sure, maybe he'd be the first or something. But what if he isn't? He'd feel absolutely horrible.

Jason didn't know that horrible felt this bad.

Muffled screams weren't the best wake-up call. He felt like he was swaying, and when he opened his sleepy eyes, his vision went blurry. His head hurt and it felt like it was going to split open. There was roaring in his ears. It sounded like waves crashing on the shore. Maybe his hearing was messed up, too. He rubbed his eyes and squinted, trying to make out at least one thing. It was pitch black. He struggled to get up. His shoulder brushed something hard, and he yelped out in pain. He gripped his arm.

Lights came on and Jason wished that he had never woken up.

There were four, sturdy walls around him. Each was made of plastic, unfortunately clear and see-through. They weren't sound-proof, either, to make it worse. In front of him were figures which looked like Piper, Leo, Hazel, Frank, Percy, and Annabeth.

They were made out of fog, mist curling around their faces like hair. They didn't look like _ventii_. They looked more solid and there was no electricity in them. Fog Piper dashed through the plastic of the box and touched his arms, poking them hard. Jason winced and sucked in his teeth. Fog Piper giggled and joined the other figures outside. Jason pulled up his sleeves. Scratches and bruises dotted his skin. What had happened before this?

"What are you-"Jason took quick steps toward the wall. "What is this?" he demanded. He dug his hand instinctively in his pocket and expected to find his coin, but nothing was there. He gritted his teeth in frustration. What kind of trick was this?

He walked backwards a little and breathed shallowly; this was going to hurt. He ran and with all the strength he had, crashed his shoulder against the plastic. "Agh!" He shouted. The pain was almost unbearable. It made his vision fog up. Whatever these were, these bruises and scratches were not regular bruises and scratches. A special kind of weapon or something made them. "If-only-I-could-remember!" he grunted, hitting the wall with every word. Jolts of pain shot through his arm.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine storm clouds dotting the sky. The air grew electric and his ears popped-but that was it. He was either too weak or his powers were just not working.

The fog spirits just floated there, staring curiously. Fog Hazel tittered and made a little whirring sound at Fog Frank. He whirred back. Jason frowned. Suddenly Fog Leo seemed to scold them and remind them of something. Then they all looked at Jason and had the same malicious smiles. It reminded Jason of the time when Real Leo convinced him to roast marshmallows with him using his hands. Something bad was going to happen.

The monsters whirled around and joined each other like a tornado made out of smoke. Their bodies morphed into some kind of scene. Jason was pretty sure that creatures show their prisoner a movie, so this was unexpected. He looked a little harder, making out the shape of- wait. Wait. What were they doing? This can't possibly-

The Fog People had shaped up into normal-colored Piper, She looked so real, like Jason could touch her if she was in the box with him. He took shallow breaths to keep the oxygen level high but he couldn't help but feel dizzy looking at her. He took a gulp of air.

"Jason," Piper smiled sweetly. Her kaleidoscope eyes danced and for a second they were back at Camp Half Blood, laughing and sharing stories. But then something struck her knee. She collapsed on the ground and Jason cried out without realizing it. His hands were flat on the wall, and he shouted, "Piper! Piper!" An arrow stuck out of her leg and her face was pale and full of pain. A silhouette, unidentifiable, stuck a knife through Piper's chest.

Jason never knew he could scream so loud.

Piper changed into Hazel and Hazel changed to Leo and Leo to the others. Blood poured out of their chests and sweat on their backs and faces. Frank, Annabeth, and Percy's image flitted from Leo's. By the time Percy's body was on the ground, his cheeks were streaked with tears. Sweat rolled down his forehead and he tasted salt in his mouth. He didn't know if it was tears or perspiration.

He was making horrible choking sounds in his throat and Thalia, with her bleeding chest, looked up at him. Her hair grew longer and her freckles left, her blue eyes replaced with dark ones. Her hair twined itself into a braid and it was Reyna who was dying.

"Jay-" she gasped, her voice breathy and soft. "-son. Jason." Without another word, Reyna's eyes went blank and before she crashed to the ground, she was Piper again. Jason felt like all his thoughts and reasoning had gone out the window; his undivided attention was on the unmoving body.

_"Have you had" _A voice rang out in his ears and he flinched at them. He felt broken. Like nothing would repair him. _"Enough?"_

"Yes," his voice came out in a hoarse whisper. He didn't care who in Pluto it was. He had to get out of here.

"_Incapable of doing anything." _the voice said in disapproval.

The walls melted into nothing, allowing Jason to go free. He stood for a second or two before walking forward. He stopped before what he hoped were just Fog creatures and stared. His tears have run out, it seemed. He saw her tanned hand clutching something tightly, clasped so hard that her fingers were white at the tips, although it was impossible to have that pressure on something when you are dead. Jason felt terrible-more than terrible- to pry it from her fingers but it looked very important. A stick with an eagle etched on the top. Its eyes were beady. He couldn't help shivering and feeling like Jupiter was watching him and shaking his head at his weakness. He pocketed it before he could examine it closer. He didn't want to be hurt more than this.

Piper-or what he thought was her- dissolved to dust flying in the wind. He watched emptily.

He saw a door materialize a few feet to his right. He walked there slowly, like there was no reason to worry. His hand rested on the knob and it sparked.

"Hang in there, Sparky," he murmured. He twisted the knob and saw total darkness. He took a step forward and let the door close without as much as a creak behind him.

Besides, he thought, it couldn't get any worse than this.

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**So I'm thinking of ending it here because 7 POVs were all I needed for camp and I could end it in a cliffhanger. I need your opinion whether or not I should continue but the cons are that I have school in 4 days and I am a very slow writer. I have to focus on school and my parents are kinda strict so I need opinions.**

**But if I do end this here, I want to say thank you so much for all the reviews. I thought this would only get a few, my field being romance, and I'm quite proud of this story.**

**So review if you want it to continue or not. Thank you guys so much.**

**~Sandie**


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